Dream of Laughter
by Bedelia
Summary: She elbowed her way into his life, dragging him along for the ride as they stumbled towards love. Years later, he remembers her light and laughter. Winner of the Twin Exchange Summer Lovin' Challenge.


**Dream of Laughter**

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><p><em><strong>Prompts:<strong>__ fairy lights, "You're next," a first date**  
>Pairing:<strong>__ Percy/Tonks**  
>Warnings:<strong>__ Canon character death.**  
>AN:**__ This turned out a lot more bittersweet than I originally intended, since it's about as canon as a story featuring this pairing can possibly be. Thanks for reading!_

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><p>Leaning forward on his favourite, rickety barstool, Percy trailed his hand down the side of his glass of Firewhiskey. Beads of moisture followed the path of his fingertips, their coolness a harsh contrast to the smothering heat that closed in on him from all sides. Only June, and already the Muggles were fretting about upcoming water shortages and hosepipe bans. Funny — every other summer since the war ended had seen a deluge of rain that left them worried about floods and too many slugs surviving to eat their crops. Apparently there was no happy medium with them.<p>

Maybe they just liked to complain about the weather. If _she _had survived the final battle, he would've asked her about it, since her dad was Muggleborn. She would've laughed and made a few good-natured jokes at his expense, but she would've given him a straight answer.

Eventually.

Percy liked to think that they would've fumbled their way through long overdue apologies (mostly on his part, of course) and ended up on speaking terms again after the war ended, had things gone differently. No — he didn't just think that; he _knew_ it. They would've been friends again. She would have tousled his hair and teased him and chuckled as he attempted to hold her son with arms that were unaccustomed to wriggly little babies. It was a truth that resonated in Percy's bones every time he remembered the way their gazes locked across the battlefield as the light faded from her eyes and she crumpled to the ground. Still overwhelmed and numb from Fred's death, he hadn't been able to wail in horror, the way he'd wanted to. Instead, he mouthed a desperate, "I love you" as he stood, powerless, and watched her fall.

He probably shouldn't have. She was happily married to another man, for heaven's sake. Still, he was certain that he saw her offer him the ghost of a smile and a wink, so maybe she understood what he meant.

Sighing, Percy motioned to Aberforth for another round. The gruff old barkeep poured him a double and clapped a rough hand on his shoulder in a gesture that might have been intended as a silent show of comfort.

Percy always came here, to the Hog's Head, on her birthday. Not to wallow in grief — though he certainly seemed to be heading that way this time — but to take a few moments to honour the memory of the bubbly, funny woman who somehow fought her way past their many differences and ensconced herself deep in his heart.

Even though they were together for less than a year, there were plenty of memories to choose from. Good ones, like the rich, booming sound of her laugh or the lazy Sunday mornings they spent snuggled up together in her bed, and not so good ones, like the moment she told him she couldn't be with him after he turned his back on his family or the sinking, clawing sensation in his belly when he realised that she'd moved on.

This year, he chose to focus on the day that she stumbled — quite literally — into his life in this very pub, on this very chair.

He hadn't known what hit him.

-oOo-

_19 December 1994_

Percy frowned, swivelling to the left in a futile effort to steady himself. He'd felt very grown up and rebellious upon setting foot in the Hog's Head for the first time, but now he was beginning to wonder if retreating to the safe familiarity of the Three Broomsticks wasn't a better idea. The stool he had chosen to perch on was in a sorry state of disrepair, and the barman seemed to lack even a basic grasp of proper food hygiene.

A sudden, loud whoop of surprise was all the warning Percy got before he found his lap full of a laughing, sweet-smelling woman with bubblegum pink hair.

"Christ, Aberforth," she said, grinning at the barman. "You really oughta get that loose floorboard fixed. Someone could break their neck one of these days."

Percy didn't know where to put his hands. The woman made no effort to move herself to a more conventional, socially appropriate seat. Rather, she draped her arms around his shoulders, as though they were old friends and perfectly at ease with one another.

"Hey," she said, turning her smiling face towards him. "You're Charlie Weasley's little brother, aren't you?"

Percy nodded. "Err, yes. One of them." He made an awkward attempt to offer her his right hand, wedging it between their bodies. "Percy Weasley."

"Nymphadora Tonks," she replied, twisting around on his lap to make room to shake his hand. "But I prefer to be called Tonks." Tilting her head to one side, she studied him with a sly sort of grin. "You're going to be one of those persistent, excessively proper sorts who insists on calling me Nymphadora, though, aren't you? I can tell."

"Err—"

"I guess I can make an exception, just this once." She ruffled his hair, then winked over her shoulder at the barman. "Oh, don't get jealous, Aberforth. I have enough love to go around. You're next."

Aberforth looked as though he tried very hard to fight the smile that twitched at the corners of his lips. He muttered something under his breath as he mixed up a fluorescent purple drink and set it in front of Nymphadora without needing to be asked.

"So," she said, taking a swig of the bright concoction. "You doing anything this evening, Percy?"

"No. Not that I know of."

"Brilliant." She rummaged through her handbag, beaming in triumph when she withdrew a stubby owl feather quill. "Here," she added, grabbing Percy's hand and pressing the nib of the quill against his palm. Her loopy handwriting tickled his skin as she scratched out a house number, street, and city. "This is my address. Meet me there at 7 o'clock."

"Oh. Why—"

"You're going to help me decorate my house for Christmas."

-oOo-

"How, exactly, did this happen?" Percy asked, quirking an eyebrow as he held up what could only be described as a _ball_ of fairy lights.

He had no idea what he was doing, and not only because of the boxes full of strange Muggle Christmas paraphernalia that had once belonged to Nymphadora's grandparents. He didn't know what he was doing at her house, what had possessed him to so easily agree when a woman he barely knew demanded his company.

Nymphadora snorted. "I might not have been as careful as I should've been when I packed those up last year."

"Really?" he replied in a deadpan voice.

"Uh huh. No worries, though. They've been tangled worse than that before. Here—" she drew her wand, "hold them up."

As Percy did as she asked, a stream of blue mist burst from the tip of her wand and washed over the fairy lights. The massive tangle writhed and pulsed, ever-so-slowly unknotting itself and forming a single strand.

A single strand that, with a mischievous flick of Nymphadora's wand, wound itself around Percy's body from his ankles to his shoulders, binding his arms to his side.

"What are you—" he began.

"Wait!" she said, waving her hands and stumbling towards a nearby power outlet. With a delighted giggle, she plugged in the fairy lights and backed up to admire the now-twinkling Percy.

"Beautiful," she said, tapping his nose with her finger.

"If I wanted someone to make me feel ridiculous, I'd go see my brothers," he grumbled.

"No you wouldn't; they aren't as cute as me."

He had to admit, she had a point.

"Anyway," she continued, "I didn't do it so I could laugh _at_ you; I did it to make _you_ laugh. It was all in fun, I promise."

"Speaking of fun...are you going to untie me anytime soon?"

"Yes." She stepped closer, placing herself toe-to-toe with him. "But first, there's something I want to do."

"Oh?"

Percy's gasp as she moved closer still was swallowed by soft lips pressing against his own. Nymphadora's arms surrounded him, holding him tight. As she slipped on — well, looking down, he would say seemingly on _nothing_ — she lurched forward, knocking him off-balance. He swayed, struggling to regain his footing with his limited range of movement. Nymphadora was no help; she simply laughed as the two of them toppled to the floor and the fairy lights blinked out.

"What was that for?" he murmured. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you. It was quite lovely, but...it's just...women don't often kiss me out of the blue like that."

Propping herself up on her elbows, she shot him an almost shy smile. "Haven't you figured out why I asked you here, Percy? This is our first date."

-oOo-

_Present Day_

A startled yelp jerked Percy out of his thoughts. His breath caught in his throat and his heart gave a pained leap as an unfamiliar woman tumbled into his lap.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "I'm so sorry! That floorboard, I...hey. Aren't you Charlie Weasley's little brother?"

He swallowed, a shiver trembling up his spine. This was beyond deja vu.

"Yes," he managed to croak out. "One of them, anyway."

"Hi." She smiled. "I'm Audrey."

_The End_


End file.
